Le Petit Histoire des Pommes de Terre
Chapitre Un: Ils se Jettent des Pommes de Terre.
By: Licorice-Sama
Author's Note: Monsieur Royale and my "Potato Story" as we have dubbed it. Should be a bit of a chapter fic, and should be fairly enjoyable. This is my first story posted @ fanfiction.net so please be nice!!! It is by far not my first fic, but it is one of the first I've done for "Liberty's Kids". It's about a Mary-Sue adventure with the destination of the Liberty's Kids storyline, although why, we do not know. (Well, we DO know, because it's a Mary-Sue, but I'm trying to run AWAY from the cliché....) This should be worth your while, or not, depending on your stance on Mary- Sues, crossovers, and fan fiction in general. (Yes, this does mean that MattyBunny wouldn't like it.) I am debating whether or not to put in the bit about "Dr. Pepper" but we shall see. Hmm... oh yes, the thing about Sarah ingesting mercury for the smallpox vaccination! LOL! Mercury causes mood swings and makes you CRAZY! I think I may have her go around talking to a little red sock named Pawnee Brit, just for fun, and just to prove my point about Mercury. (It's TRUE! I saw it in a biography on Ivan the Terrible in my European History class!) Oh yes, might have marching band/general band references cos I'm a cliché band geek. Um, can't give you any more warning, so ciao!
Disclaimer: I do not own Liberty's Kids. PBS, Dic, and other people own that. I do not own my Digimon stuff, Gundam Wing Stuff, or my Harry Potter Stuff or Stormiya and his family. Digimon is Bandai's and Gundam Wing is Sunrise's, Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's, and Stormiya's stuff is Monsieur Royale's. (Ok, so other people share in ownership, too! This is just the BASICS!) Robert Asprin owns whatever may appear that be linked to his Myth Series, which means Vic namely, and I only own Sapphire and her family and pets, save for the digimon, which are only partially mine. (I didn't create Digimon, but I created MY digimon!) I also own Ire, the dragon! I don't own Exotica Kayru and her family, which hopefully won't make an appearance, but they belong to my friend, and George Lucas too, I guess. I also don't own Bruce Coville's stuff, which is everything that is from "Into the Land of the Unicorns", but I own the concept of the Wiccan of Luster. Ok, I think I've disclaimed enough, just remember the golden rule of the disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue!
Rating: PG-13, to be safe. I don't know how many people are offended by random potato/Willie Nelson attacks and gratuitous cursing. ^_~
Dedicated to: Monsieur Royale/ Alexandre de GlouGlou, for our original collaboration. MattyBunny, for being mon chèr, marching band--for everything, and Mr. Long, for getting me out of the fan fiction rut, but not completely running me away from it. **crawls back into rut and hugs security blanket** hehe.
Nota Bene: *...* is for emphasis, //...// denotes thoughts, and **...** is author's actions. Okie?
"There is no "I" in marchng band." ~Mr. Morehouse. (Compliments to "The Secret Band Geek Haven" for that one!)
~*Present Day*~
Sapphire LaRauss sighed, laying --stomach-down-- upon a large, gilt, four-post bed in her friend, Stormiya Grastrophe's "retreat" manor in Bordeaux. Her father had died the week prior in the Dark Lord's second rising, and in mourning she had chopped her long, dirty-blonde hair to just below her chin and dyed it a vibrant shade of burgundy. Stormiya looked up from one of his countless books on the life of Marie Antoinette.
"What is it now?" he asked distractedly, growling in aggravation at the mention of the Marquis de Lafayette in his book. His chocolate-colored hair fell into his eyes, and he hurriedly pushed it away. Sapphire made an unsettled sound deep in her throat and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, sea-blue eyes sparkling.
"I'm bored. I mean, we're magicians, and yet we can't have a little fun!" Stormiya sighed in exasperation, looking up at his militarily- advanced fellow French witch. How she got into Hogwarts he'd never know... especially since she'd spent her life in *New Orleans*!
"No magic on holiday, remember? We're underage," he told her firmly, although silently wishing to take his wand out of the curio cabinet in the hall and cause a little mischief in the Malfoy manor.
"Erg. Hon, I was an assassin at eight! I have studied magic at the 'Magical Institute of Perv' and I'm only now nearing fifteen! I'm something of a magical prodigy, and to not risk bragging, you yourself have demonstrated magical prowess! It's undeniably human of us to want to use our powers for a little fun! So, rightfully, cos of our advancement, we should be able to!"
"What do you suggest?" Stormiya asked testily. Sapphire smirked deviously, a trait she was quite good at, her softly-tanned cheeks dimpling slightly.
"Oh, I think it's in order we take a vacation."
"Where?" Stormiya said, looking at the girl with skeptic brown eyes.
"How about pre-revolutionary France?" she supplied sweetly. She watched Stormiya almost nod in agreement, tempted at the proposal of visiting his beloved France in its prime, as he considered it. Of course, Sapphire was really ready to go *anywhere* but this dreadful manor, with its dark oak doors, mahogany-paneled rooms and hallways, with ebony furniture and baroque decorations and garish gold and red rugs and gloomy medieval paintings.
The room they were in now had a picture of The angel Ramiel, one of Sapphire's favorites. She loved his brilliant blue wings, lapis and vibrant like that of the peacock, and his curls of blond falling into his bright eyes. He had that heavenly radiance, and one of those cliché halos that all the holy of Italian Renaissance art have. She smiled, for this painting of the angel Ramiel upon the clouds of heaven seemed so out of place in this baroque manor of reds and gold and blacks.
She had never known Stormiya to be highly religious. She had been Catholic while growing up, as was customary of her family-- the guise of the French aristocracy: religious and also uncommonly benevolent-- a trait they learned long ago that was necessary for their survival, even if they really *were* practicing witchcraft. Stormiya however, also of noble birth, was of no basic religion, and his family wasn't either. She couldn't understand it. Sapphire had always needed something to hold to; magic and magik weren't enough to satisfy her as explanations of the universe. She needed a place to store her faith, and when through an old matrilineal heritage she became the "Wiccan of Luster"-- Luster was another dimension filled with unicorns and dragons (among other things)-- she found that this was the way of life where she could store her faith and also help her fellow humans and other beings. Something that somehow appealed to her somewhat selfish-brat nature in some way.
"Wait, we're already in France!" he said, bringing her out of her reverie. She shrugged.
"Not in pre-revolutionary... but of course, we need a guide." She looked thoughtful, standing up, as did her new traveling companion. She grabbed her enchanted bag of a shimmering, almost-iridescent cloth.
"And who do you suggest?"
"Somebody who knows what he's doing... somebody off-dimension... somebody on Deva, perhaps. Hmm... I know just the guy!" Sapphire immediately grabbed Stormiya's dark tan arm, and with a BAMF! they were gone.
~*At the Bazaar on Deva*~
"Oh yes, lovely, just spirit us off-dimension to some sandy, hot, STINKY flea market!" Stormiya complained, turning up his nose at a stall selling dragon manure. There were all sorts of people here, from humanoid creatures to some that seemed like they had crawled from the prehistoric seas.
"Oh please, Stormiya! It's a *bazaar*," said Sapphire distractedly, pushing back a lock of burgundy hair and grabbing his arm, tugging him up to a stall where a short, red-skinned devil looking thing sat behind his table, different time-telling devices laid out before him.
"What is THAT?!" Stormiya asked, almost arrogantly. Sapphire rolled her eyes, smiling, humoring him.
"A native. They're called Deveels, Stormiya."
"So, you want a pocket watch, miss?" the Deveel asked of her, picking up on her speech immediately. Deveels could pick up on languages extraordinarily quick, and this specimen was no exception to the species. She flashed him a toothy smile.
"Oh, maybe later. Right now I need some directions," said Sapphire, tossing a few gold coins in one hand. She had retrieved these from her enchanted bag. The Deveel eyed the money raptly and nodded.
"Oh, and where to, miss?" he asked, his accent on her English middle- eastern. One hand rested upon his pot-belly and a pointed tail lashed from side to side behind him as he sat on a stubby-legged stool.
"The Great Skeeve's place," she told him firmly, in a haughty drawl. While she was friends, loosely, with the magician and his friends and cohorts, she would rather not risk try to find the tent (Which cleverly hid something along the lines of Stormiya's manor, just as wizard's tents mask a complete apartment-like space.) in the maze of tents, stalls, and cafés.
"Go down to the end of this row," the Deveel pointed in the direction he meant, "Then go seven rows left, down three, and right five." Sapphire wrote this down on her hand with a pink pen she had in her bag and stated it aloud, confirming it.
"Seven left, down three, right five... got it!" She smiled, putting down three gold pieces for the Deveel. "Thanks, Monsieur! Ciao!" Sapphire then grabbed Stormiya by the wrist and began walking down the row of stalls and tents if various colors and materials. It was so loud and hot in here, along with the foreign smells, that it nearly gagged Stormiya and made Sapphire think of a caravan settling for awhile in the great African deserts.
"Dragon manure! Honestly! Who would buy such--"
"It's actually quite good at fertilizing certain off-dimension plants you wouldn't know about, but are better alternatives to most of the herbs we use in potions," Sapphire said, cutting Stormiya's statement off. counting off rows as they began walking left.
"Like what?"
"The Flower of Shadow, for one," she said to the young wizard, "is an excellent replacement for mandrake. Of course, it grows only in Limbo for some reason, which is where the guy we're going to team up with hails from."
"This Skeeve guy is from someplace called Limbo? Must be a pretty depressing guy," Stormiya muttered, looking over at a large, goatish- looking guy who was talking to a silver, serpentine-looking female. Her amber eyes met Stormiya's brown and she gave a low 'hiss' which was enough insensitive for the little wizard of the magical nobility of the French 'Ministry of Magic' to not stare. He was drawn back to attention when Sapphire laughed, tossing her short hair, ends curled under, and gave him a haughty grin.
"If you would pay attention to me, you'd know that Skeeve isn't from Limbo. Also, he isn't the guy we're going to see."
"He's not? Then why did you ask for his--"
"Darling, he's friends with a very close friend of *mine*," once again Sapphire was looking straight ahead. The young wizard wondered how a girl shorter than he could drag him all about, when she didn't seem much stronger than he was. Her words, of course, made Stormiya immediately suspicious.
"Oh God, he's not a vampire, is he?" he asked, dreading the response.
"How did ya guess?" Sapphire said in a sweet voice that was very unlike herself. Stormiya shook his head, knowing all too well of her attraction and relationships within the species.
"I'll never understand your fascination with the undead," he said to himself. Sapphire smiled, turning as they reached the seventh row.
"Funny, neither will I," she replied, although also to herself, as they drew ever nearer to the tent.
***
"Hello Guido! Is Skeeve around?" Sapphire cheerily asked of one of Skeeve's mob bodyguards (well, cliché mob bodyguard's). The tall, broad, muscular man in the pin-striped gray suit smiled down at the petite witch and her cowering friend.
"Hey Sapphire, how's youse been doin' these days?" Guido asked of her. She shrugged, giving a confused half-smile. "I see youse cut youse's hair."
"Yeah, a little... grieving technique," Sapphire grimaced, squinting her sea-blue eyes shut, "my father died recently and I'm still a bit hurt." Guido patted her gently on the shoulder.
"I understand, and I'se sorry for youse. ... But yeah, da boss is here, go right on in, as soon as I knows youse friend, of course." Sapphire giggled carelessly, dusting off her blue jeans and straightening her white tank top.
"Oh, this is Stormiya Grastrophe. He's a noble and a magician, like Skeeve and me. He, of course, couldn't do any harm, because I have his wand right here," she said, patting her bag. Stormiya gave an outraged cry.
"Hey! That's mine!"
"Oh hush, you don't need it yet, and you'll get it back soon enough," Sapphire told him sternly. He sighed in defeat, knowing vengeance later was just as good a plan as any.
"Ok then, go right in Sapphire, and Mr. Grastrophe," Guido told them, allowing them entrance into the courtyard. Sapphire took a seat at the base of an elaborate fountain in the middle of it all, as Guido relayed the message to Skeeve. Stormiya sat upon a marble bench, dark-tan face drawn into a pout.
"You know, Sapphire," Stormiya said finally, "I'm starting to think that--"
"GLEEP!" came a cry off to the right of the fountain, and the two magicians turned to see a dark-green dragon barreling straight towards them, head held high above the skinny neck and chubby serpentine body, the long tail lashing to and fro to help balance the creature as it ran.
"Hey-hey Gleep!" Sapphire said, jumping to her feet as the animal skidded to a halt. She petted the creature on the nose and in turn he gave her smelly dragon kisses. She giggled, wiping away the saliva. "Gleep, this is my friend Stormiya... what do you think of him?" Sapphire asked the creature. Gleep cocked his head to one side, staring at the young man, before giving a "Gleep!" and tackling him and giving him dragon kisses also.
"Ah! Help! The dragon is attacking me! Help!" Stormiya cried, semi- paralyzed with fear. Sapphire giggled as Gleep backed off the boy, also snickering, or as best as dragons can snicker. Stormiya wiped off his face with the sleeve of his yellow shirt, his black slacks now dusty.
"Sapphire?" asked a voice, and she turned, seeing a strawberry-blonde young man, perhaps three or so years older than her, at least, in a red tunic and green leggings. He was walking towards her, leather boots thudding softly on the marble steps.
The dragon went up to the young man and received a pat on the head, as the blue-eyed character smiled happily at his unexpected guests.
"Hey Skeeve, how's tricks?" Sapphire asked casually. Skeeve just laughed and gestured towards the doorway above the stairs with a nod of his head.
"Please, come on in, we can talk over wine!" Sapphire smiled at this invitation and nodded to Stormiya to follow.
"Thank you, Skeeve. Of course, we came to see if you've seen Vic lately." The older magician frowned thoughtfully, ushering them into a drawing room of sorts, and sat his guests at a table.
"Well, we had lunch yesterday," he said, "and he said he wasn't very busy for the rest of the week, and he might drop by today."
"Perfect!" Sapphire cried happily. "This goes hand-in-hand with Stormiya and my vacation plans!" She cast a glance at the wizard boy who was sitting sullenly, his brown eyes dulled.
"Quel domage," Stormiya said quietly, "I was hoping he had fallen on a stake!"
***
"Oh, Sapphire LaRauss, what a pleasant surprise!" came the casual drawl of a dark-haired, pale man in glasses standing in the doorway of the drawing room. He was very well-groomed, Stormiya noticed, when he looked. He wore a dark blue turtleneck sweater, wool Stormiya thought (and Sapphire later confirmed), slender black slacks, shiny ankle-high boots, and dark sunglasses.
"Bonjour Vic, comment-ça va?" she asked of the artistic vampire.
"Ça va, merci, et toi, ma chèrie?" Vic replied, still in that casual drawl.
//So this is Vic//, Stormiya thought, //definitely does seems her type!// He had to keep himself from laughter.
"Ça va," Sapphire replied in the same nonchalant tone, and came up to give her friend a hug, although he was substantially taller than her diminutive 5'2". The vampire smiled, taking off his glasses to reveal vibrant vermilion eyes; eyes that had no frightful effect on the little Wiccan. Of course, Stormiya was, of course, shocked.
"That's freaky!" Stormiya exclaimed, and then regained composure as the witch and vampire laughed.
"So, why are you visiting Deva this time of year, Sapphire? I thought you'd still be in that cheesy *magic* school of yours." Vic purposely mocked the word "magic" since it was, in their opinion, inferior to "magik".
"Oh, I should be, you and I both know that. Of course, you've probably heard our Dark Lord, Voldemort, has rose again and of course, the curse he put on Papa came back to bite him in the ass." Sapphire said this bitterly, her eyes cold. Vic ran a hand through her now-short hair, smiling to himself.
"Well, that explains the haircut. I guess that old geezer headmaster of yours let you off the hook. Lord knows you haven't had enough trouble this past year," Vic said, referring to her tumultuous year beginning with her service in OZ Corps. and ending with the deaths of Treize Khushrenada, her mentor, and now her father. (NB: I was going to try and leave out the GW stuff, but I figure I have to somehow or other make a comparison of the American uniforms to Treize's. **giggle**)
"Oui, c'est triste," Sapphire sighed, shaking her head. She then looked up at her friend, banishing all traces of lamentation from her face. "Of course, Vic, we have a new proposition for you! We've decided we want to take a vacation to pre-revolutionary France!" Sapphire slyly winked at Vic as if to let him know that France, however, was not her *desired* destination. She had been reading war novels, and after she had had enough of Hemingway and Crane, she had gone on to the subject of the American Revolution and decided that was really where she wanted to be!
"Oh, really now? Why should I come, though?" Vic asked playfully. Sapphire giggled.
"Well, because we need another magician there, and also because if we don't have a mediator Stormiya and I are likely to kill each other or someone else!"
"Like that jerk the Marquis de Lafayette. I hope he falls down!" Stormiya said viciously, stomping his thick-soled black boot. Sapphire just shrugged. Vic laughed good-naturedly, showing small, sharpened eyeteeth.
"Ok, so when do we start out?" Vic asked.
"Right now!" Sapphire declared, and with a careful incantation and a BAMF! they were gone.
~*Benjamin Franklin's print shop*~
Sarah was angry at James for some reason. She sat across from him, arms folded, mouth in a frown, watching him writing one of his articles on the virtues of the revolution. She was probably mad because he borrowed her cloak for some practical joke, and returned it five days later with tomato stains upon it. Of course, that's just speculation. Henri sat on the floor between them, looking at a sheet of paper with the alphabet written on it. Suddenly, the little French boy with shaggy black hair gave a shudder. Sarah looked down on him in surprise, blinking her light green eyes.
"Why did you shudder just then, Henri?" she asked, tucking an orange- auburn lock of hair behind her ear. Slowly, he replied, "I don't know."
~TSUZUKU~
Author's Note: hehe! I'm proud of this! I really am! I hope you all enjoyed, but if you didn't, I would enjoy hearing why (in a nice, constructive way... no flames, if you will.). Stay tuned for my next installment! Yes, this doesn't revolve around "Liberty's Kids" yet, but it will, of course! Just wait for more chapters and it will! 3, Licorice!
Chapitre Un: Ils se Jettent des Pommes de Terre.
By: Licorice-Sama
Author's Note: Monsieur Royale and my "Potato Story" as we have dubbed it. Should be a bit of a chapter fic, and should be fairly enjoyable. This is my first story posted @ fanfiction.net so please be nice!!! It is by far not my first fic, but it is one of the first I've done for "Liberty's Kids". It's about a Mary-Sue adventure with the destination of the Liberty's Kids storyline, although why, we do not know. (Well, we DO know, because it's a Mary-Sue, but I'm trying to run AWAY from the cliché....) This should be worth your while, or not, depending on your stance on Mary- Sues, crossovers, and fan fiction in general. (Yes, this does mean that MattyBunny wouldn't like it.) I am debating whether or not to put in the bit about "Dr. Pepper" but we shall see. Hmm... oh yes, the thing about Sarah ingesting mercury for the smallpox vaccination! LOL! Mercury causes mood swings and makes you CRAZY! I think I may have her go around talking to a little red sock named Pawnee Brit, just for fun, and just to prove my point about Mercury. (It's TRUE! I saw it in a biography on Ivan the Terrible in my European History class!) Oh yes, might have marching band/general band references cos I'm a cliché band geek. Um, can't give you any more warning, so ciao!
Disclaimer: I do not own Liberty's Kids. PBS, Dic, and other people own that. I do not own my Digimon stuff, Gundam Wing Stuff, or my Harry Potter Stuff or Stormiya and his family. Digimon is Bandai's and Gundam Wing is Sunrise's, Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's, and Stormiya's stuff is Monsieur Royale's. (Ok, so other people share in ownership, too! This is just the BASICS!) Robert Asprin owns whatever may appear that be linked to his Myth Series, which means Vic namely, and I only own Sapphire and her family and pets, save for the digimon, which are only partially mine. (I didn't create Digimon, but I created MY digimon!) I also own Ire, the dragon! I don't own Exotica Kayru and her family, which hopefully won't make an appearance, but they belong to my friend, and George Lucas too, I guess. I also don't own Bruce Coville's stuff, which is everything that is from "Into the Land of the Unicorns", but I own the concept of the Wiccan of Luster. Ok, I think I've disclaimed enough, just remember the golden rule of the disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue!
Rating: PG-13, to be safe. I don't know how many people are offended by random potato/Willie Nelson attacks and gratuitous cursing. ^_~
Dedicated to: Monsieur Royale/ Alexandre de GlouGlou, for our original collaboration. MattyBunny, for being mon chèr, marching band--for everything, and Mr. Long, for getting me out of the fan fiction rut, but not completely running me away from it. **crawls back into rut and hugs security blanket** hehe.
Nota Bene: *...* is for emphasis, //...// denotes thoughts, and **...** is author's actions. Okie?
"There is no "I" in marchng band." ~Mr. Morehouse. (Compliments to "The Secret Band Geek Haven" for that one!)
~*Present Day*~
Sapphire LaRauss sighed, laying --stomach-down-- upon a large, gilt, four-post bed in her friend, Stormiya Grastrophe's "retreat" manor in Bordeaux. Her father had died the week prior in the Dark Lord's second rising, and in mourning she had chopped her long, dirty-blonde hair to just below her chin and dyed it a vibrant shade of burgundy. Stormiya looked up from one of his countless books on the life of Marie Antoinette.
"What is it now?" he asked distractedly, growling in aggravation at the mention of the Marquis de Lafayette in his book. His chocolate-colored hair fell into his eyes, and he hurriedly pushed it away. Sapphire made an unsettled sound deep in her throat and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, sea-blue eyes sparkling.
"I'm bored. I mean, we're magicians, and yet we can't have a little fun!" Stormiya sighed in exasperation, looking up at his militarily- advanced fellow French witch. How she got into Hogwarts he'd never know... especially since she'd spent her life in *New Orleans*!
"No magic on holiday, remember? We're underage," he told her firmly, although silently wishing to take his wand out of the curio cabinet in the hall and cause a little mischief in the Malfoy manor.
"Erg. Hon, I was an assassin at eight! I have studied magic at the 'Magical Institute of Perv' and I'm only now nearing fifteen! I'm something of a magical prodigy, and to not risk bragging, you yourself have demonstrated magical prowess! It's undeniably human of us to want to use our powers for a little fun! So, rightfully, cos of our advancement, we should be able to!"
"What do you suggest?" Stormiya asked testily. Sapphire smirked deviously, a trait she was quite good at, her softly-tanned cheeks dimpling slightly.
"Oh, I think it's in order we take a vacation."
"Where?" Stormiya said, looking at the girl with skeptic brown eyes.
"How about pre-revolutionary France?" she supplied sweetly. She watched Stormiya almost nod in agreement, tempted at the proposal of visiting his beloved France in its prime, as he considered it. Of course, Sapphire was really ready to go *anywhere* but this dreadful manor, with its dark oak doors, mahogany-paneled rooms and hallways, with ebony furniture and baroque decorations and garish gold and red rugs and gloomy medieval paintings.
The room they were in now had a picture of The angel Ramiel, one of Sapphire's favorites. She loved his brilliant blue wings, lapis and vibrant like that of the peacock, and his curls of blond falling into his bright eyes. He had that heavenly radiance, and one of those cliché halos that all the holy of Italian Renaissance art have. She smiled, for this painting of the angel Ramiel upon the clouds of heaven seemed so out of place in this baroque manor of reds and gold and blacks.
She had never known Stormiya to be highly religious. She had been Catholic while growing up, as was customary of her family-- the guise of the French aristocracy: religious and also uncommonly benevolent-- a trait they learned long ago that was necessary for their survival, even if they really *were* practicing witchcraft. Stormiya however, also of noble birth, was of no basic religion, and his family wasn't either. She couldn't understand it. Sapphire had always needed something to hold to; magic and magik weren't enough to satisfy her as explanations of the universe. She needed a place to store her faith, and when through an old matrilineal heritage she became the "Wiccan of Luster"-- Luster was another dimension filled with unicorns and dragons (among other things)-- she found that this was the way of life where she could store her faith and also help her fellow humans and other beings. Something that somehow appealed to her somewhat selfish-brat nature in some way.
"Wait, we're already in France!" he said, bringing her out of her reverie. She shrugged.
"Not in pre-revolutionary... but of course, we need a guide." She looked thoughtful, standing up, as did her new traveling companion. She grabbed her enchanted bag of a shimmering, almost-iridescent cloth.
"And who do you suggest?"
"Somebody who knows what he's doing... somebody off-dimension... somebody on Deva, perhaps. Hmm... I know just the guy!" Sapphire immediately grabbed Stormiya's dark tan arm, and with a BAMF! they were gone.
~*At the Bazaar on Deva*~
"Oh yes, lovely, just spirit us off-dimension to some sandy, hot, STINKY flea market!" Stormiya complained, turning up his nose at a stall selling dragon manure. There were all sorts of people here, from humanoid creatures to some that seemed like they had crawled from the prehistoric seas.
"Oh please, Stormiya! It's a *bazaar*," said Sapphire distractedly, pushing back a lock of burgundy hair and grabbing his arm, tugging him up to a stall where a short, red-skinned devil looking thing sat behind his table, different time-telling devices laid out before him.
"What is THAT?!" Stormiya asked, almost arrogantly. Sapphire rolled her eyes, smiling, humoring him.
"A native. They're called Deveels, Stormiya."
"So, you want a pocket watch, miss?" the Deveel asked of her, picking up on her speech immediately. Deveels could pick up on languages extraordinarily quick, and this specimen was no exception to the species. She flashed him a toothy smile.
"Oh, maybe later. Right now I need some directions," said Sapphire, tossing a few gold coins in one hand. She had retrieved these from her enchanted bag. The Deveel eyed the money raptly and nodded.
"Oh, and where to, miss?" he asked, his accent on her English middle- eastern. One hand rested upon his pot-belly and a pointed tail lashed from side to side behind him as he sat on a stubby-legged stool.
"The Great Skeeve's place," she told him firmly, in a haughty drawl. While she was friends, loosely, with the magician and his friends and cohorts, she would rather not risk try to find the tent (Which cleverly hid something along the lines of Stormiya's manor, just as wizard's tents mask a complete apartment-like space.) in the maze of tents, stalls, and cafés.
"Go down to the end of this row," the Deveel pointed in the direction he meant, "Then go seven rows left, down three, and right five." Sapphire wrote this down on her hand with a pink pen she had in her bag and stated it aloud, confirming it.
"Seven left, down three, right five... got it!" She smiled, putting down three gold pieces for the Deveel. "Thanks, Monsieur! Ciao!" Sapphire then grabbed Stormiya by the wrist and began walking down the row of stalls and tents if various colors and materials. It was so loud and hot in here, along with the foreign smells, that it nearly gagged Stormiya and made Sapphire think of a caravan settling for awhile in the great African deserts.
"Dragon manure! Honestly! Who would buy such--"
"It's actually quite good at fertilizing certain off-dimension plants you wouldn't know about, but are better alternatives to most of the herbs we use in potions," Sapphire said, cutting Stormiya's statement off. counting off rows as they began walking left.
"Like what?"
"The Flower of Shadow, for one," she said to the young wizard, "is an excellent replacement for mandrake. Of course, it grows only in Limbo for some reason, which is where the guy we're going to team up with hails from."
"This Skeeve guy is from someplace called Limbo? Must be a pretty depressing guy," Stormiya muttered, looking over at a large, goatish- looking guy who was talking to a silver, serpentine-looking female. Her amber eyes met Stormiya's brown and she gave a low 'hiss' which was enough insensitive for the little wizard of the magical nobility of the French 'Ministry of Magic' to not stare. He was drawn back to attention when Sapphire laughed, tossing her short hair, ends curled under, and gave him a haughty grin.
"If you would pay attention to me, you'd know that Skeeve isn't from Limbo. Also, he isn't the guy we're going to see."
"He's not? Then why did you ask for his--"
"Darling, he's friends with a very close friend of *mine*," once again Sapphire was looking straight ahead. The young wizard wondered how a girl shorter than he could drag him all about, when she didn't seem much stronger than he was. Her words, of course, made Stormiya immediately suspicious.
"Oh God, he's not a vampire, is he?" he asked, dreading the response.
"How did ya guess?" Sapphire said in a sweet voice that was very unlike herself. Stormiya shook his head, knowing all too well of her attraction and relationships within the species.
"I'll never understand your fascination with the undead," he said to himself. Sapphire smiled, turning as they reached the seventh row.
"Funny, neither will I," she replied, although also to herself, as they drew ever nearer to the tent.
***
"Hello Guido! Is Skeeve around?" Sapphire cheerily asked of one of Skeeve's mob bodyguards (well, cliché mob bodyguard's). The tall, broad, muscular man in the pin-striped gray suit smiled down at the petite witch and her cowering friend.
"Hey Sapphire, how's youse been doin' these days?" Guido asked of her. She shrugged, giving a confused half-smile. "I see youse cut youse's hair."
"Yeah, a little... grieving technique," Sapphire grimaced, squinting her sea-blue eyes shut, "my father died recently and I'm still a bit hurt." Guido patted her gently on the shoulder.
"I understand, and I'se sorry for youse. ... But yeah, da boss is here, go right on in, as soon as I knows youse friend, of course." Sapphire giggled carelessly, dusting off her blue jeans and straightening her white tank top.
"Oh, this is Stormiya Grastrophe. He's a noble and a magician, like Skeeve and me. He, of course, couldn't do any harm, because I have his wand right here," she said, patting her bag. Stormiya gave an outraged cry.
"Hey! That's mine!"
"Oh hush, you don't need it yet, and you'll get it back soon enough," Sapphire told him sternly. He sighed in defeat, knowing vengeance later was just as good a plan as any.
"Ok then, go right in Sapphire, and Mr. Grastrophe," Guido told them, allowing them entrance into the courtyard. Sapphire took a seat at the base of an elaborate fountain in the middle of it all, as Guido relayed the message to Skeeve. Stormiya sat upon a marble bench, dark-tan face drawn into a pout.
"You know, Sapphire," Stormiya said finally, "I'm starting to think that--"
"GLEEP!" came a cry off to the right of the fountain, and the two magicians turned to see a dark-green dragon barreling straight towards them, head held high above the skinny neck and chubby serpentine body, the long tail lashing to and fro to help balance the creature as it ran.
"Hey-hey Gleep!" Sapphire said, jumping to her feet as the animal skidded to a halt. She petted the creature on the nose and in turn he gave her smelly dragon kisses. She giggled, wiping away the saliva. "Gleep, this is my friend Stormiya... what do you think of him?" Sapphire asked the creature. Gleep cocked his head to one side, staring at the young man, before giving a "Gleep!" and tackling him and giving him dragon kisses also.
"Ah! Help! The dragon is attacking me! Help!" Stormiya cried, semi- paralyzed with fear. Sapphire giggled as Gleep backed off the boy, also snickering, or as best as dragons can snicker. Stormiya wiped off his face with the sleeve of his yellow shirt, his black slacks now dusty.
"Sapphire?" asked a voice, and she turned, seeing a strawberry-blonde young man, perhaps three or so years older than her, at least, in a red tunic and green leggings. He was walking towards her, leather boots thudding softly on the marble steps.
The dragon went up to the young man and received a pat on the head, as the blue-eyed character smiled happily at his unexpected guests.
"Hey Skeeve, how's tricks?" Sapphire asked casually. Skeeve just laughed and gestured towards the doorway above the stairs with a nod of his head.
"Please, come on in, we can talk over wine!" Sapphire smiled at this invitation and nodded to Stormiya to follow.
"Thank you, Skeeve. Of course, we came to see if you've seen Vic lately." The older magician frowned thoughtfully, ushering them into a drawing room of sorts, and sat his guests at a table.
"Well, we had lunch yesterday," he said, "and he said he wasn't very busy for the rest of the week, and he might drop by today."
"Perfect!" Sapphire cried happily. "This goes hand-in-hand with Stormiya and my vacation plans!" She cast a glance at the wizard boy who was sitting sullenly, his brown eyes dulled.
"Quel domage," Stormiya said quietly, "I was hoping he had fallen on a stake!"
***
"Oh, Sapphire LaRauss, what a pleasant surprise!" came the casual drawl of a dark-haired, pale man in glasses standing in the doorway of the drawing room. He was very well-groomed, Stormiya noticed, when he looked. He wore a dark blue turtleneck sweater, wool Stormiya thought (and Sapphire later confirmed), slender black slacks, shiny ankle-high boots, and dark sunglasses.
"Bonjour Vic, comment-ça va?" she asked of the artistic vampire.
"Ça va, merci, et toi, ma chèrie?" Vic replied, still in that casual drawl.
//So this is Vic//, Stormiya thought, //definitely does seems her type!// He had to keep himself from laughter.
"Ça va," Sapphire replied in the same nonchalant tone, and came up to give her friend a hug, although he was substantially taller than her diminutive 5'2". The vampire smiled, taking off his glasses to reveal vibrant vermilion eyes; eyes that had no frightful effect on the little Wiccan. Of course, Stormiya was, of course, shocked.
"That's freaky!" Stormiya exclaimed, and then regained composure as the witch and vampire laughed.
"So, why are you visiting Deva this time of year, Sapphire? I thought you'd still be in that cheesy *magic* school of yours." Vic purposely mocked the word "magic" since it was, in their opinion, inferior to "magik".
"Oh, I should be, you and I both know that. Of course, you've probably heard our Dark Lord, Voldemort, has rose again and of course, the curse he put on Papa came back to bite him in the ass." Sapphire said this bitterly, her eyes cold. Vic ran a hand through her now-short hair, smiling to himself.
"Well, that explains the haircut. I guess that old geezer headmaster of yours let you off the hook. Lord knows you haven't had enough trouble this past year," Vic said, referring to her tumultuous year beginning with her service in OZ Corps. and ending with the deaths of Treize Khushrenada, her mentor, and now her father. (NB: I was going to try and leave out the GW stuff, but I figure I have to somehow or other make a comparison of the American uniforms to Treize's. **giggle**)
"Oui, c'est triste," Sapphire sighed, shaking her head. She then looked up at her friend, banishing all traces of lamentation from her face. "Of course, Vic, we have a new proposition for you! We've decided we want to take a vacation to pre-revolutionary France!" Sapphire slyly winked at Vic as if to let him know that France, however, was not her *desired* destination. She had been reading war novels, and after she had had enough of Hemingway and Crane, she had gone on to the subject of the American Revolution and decided that was really where she wanted to be!
"Oh, really now? Why should I come, though?" Vic asked playfully. Sapphire giggled.
"Well, because we need another magician there, and also because if we don't have a mediator Stormiya and I are likely to kill each other or someone else!"
"Like that jerk the Marquis de Lafayette. I hope he falls down!" Stormiya said viciously, stomping his thick-soled black boot. Sapphire just shrugged. Vic laughed good-naturedly, showing small, sharpened eyeteeth.
"Ok, so when do we start out?" Vic asked.
"Right now!" Sapphire declared, and with a careful incantation and a BAMF! they were gone.
~*Benjamin Franklin's print shop*~
Sarah was angry at James for some reason. She sat across from him, arms folded, mouth in a frown, watching him writing one of his articles on the virtues of the revolution. She was probably mad because he borrowed her cloak for some practical joke, and returned it five days later with tomato stains upon it. Of course, that's just speculation. Henri sat on the floor between them, looking at a sheet of paper with the alphabet written on it. Suddenly, the little French boy with shaggy black hair gave a shudder. Sarah looked down on him in surprise, blinking her light green eyes.
"Why did you shudder just then, Henri?" she asked, tucking an orange- auburn lock of hair behind her ear. Slowly, he replied, "I don't know."
~TSUZUKU~
Author's Note: hehe! I'm proud of this! I really am! I hope you all enjoyed, but if you didn't, I would enjoy hearing why (in a nice, constructive way... no flames, if you will.). Stay tuned for my next installment! Yes, this doesn't revolve around "Liberty's Kids" yet, but it will, of course! Just wait for more chapters and it will! 3, Licorice!